Of miscalculations, love, and other mistakes
by Megaphone.Kills.You
Summary: After Itachi's death, things never were the same again. Sasuke feels how he slowly loses control over his emotions and thoughts and watches as they try to tell him what's the right thing to do. Guilt. Love. And finally hatred. Seven days without sleep.
1. Guilt

**Of miscalculations, love and other mistakes**

**:GUILT:**

Madara stops dead in his tracks as he hears his request and stares at him. At least, he believes Madara stares at him because of that ridiculous mask he's wearing and his eye sight is too messed up anyway to make out the expressions of people.

"So you now changed your opinion. Why the sudden change of heart?" he is asked. 'I would like to know that too' he almost says but he can stop himself in time, no he can't say that, he has to appear like he is still in control of his thoughts and he has to remind himself that he already knows why his plan were changed. So he replies "As long as I'm blind, my powers are more or less worthless" and he smirks on the inside because he likes how convinced he sounds and how every time he says this out loud, Guilt is suppressed a little more.

The older one remains rooted to the spot and doesn't seem to react to the words. Silence believes it to be a good moment to make an appearance now, it jumps on the opportunity and creeps into the room and fills it out, makes itself comfortable and settles between them and he envies it because he hasn't rested, much less slept in five days now.

"Alright, I'll go prepare the transplantation" Madara finally announces and the next second he is gone. The person left behind blinks in confusion, briefly wondering how this was possible and scolds himself the next second for not remembering that the old man does that quite often, simply disappearing.

Left to his own devices, his thoughts start to wander, to run in circles and to jump from topic to topic in the mess that he calls his mind and they won't stop doing so. They focus this time on the now upcoming, now inevitable event that fills him with a wonderful, disgusting, confusing mix of emotions. Need For Revenge and Love (blinded by Pain and Sorrow and Anger and Hatred) teamed up against Guilt that is struggling to win the fight with the seemingly stronger enemy. A blurry-at-the-edges picture of Itachi forms in his head thanks to Guilt and it hits him with full force. And Guilt is strong and upset and desperate which is not good for him and the headache intensifies.

Stealing (saying he only lends them would be completely ridiculous and Uchiha are not ridiculous) his brother's eyes is a crime, a sick and twisted and dishonorable at that. It feeds the conflict between Revenge, Love and Guilt. Itachi wanted peace and love (does that make him a hippie?) and now his younger brother will show him through his eyes how the village he LOVED SO MUCH will burn down and leave only ashes behind; ashes to repay for the horrible things they did to him, to correct the injustice. Because everything is their fault, their fault, the team Love-Revenge-Pain-Sorrow-Anger-Hatred reminds him and his eyes narrow. Yes, he needs to burn it down and he can't spare a single soul. He needs his brother's eyes for that; his brother has always been the one who made him stronger, always the one who helped him, the small weak plant, grow.

Guilt finally gives up and lets it rest for now. He knows, it only sleeps and will return because there is a certain topic that is delicate and Guilt loves to make him feel bad, ignoring that it doesn't stand a chance against L-R-P-S-A-H.

He can't blame the feeling for it; it only does what it's supposed to do, but he wishes he could erase it like the life of a hated person. And now it rests, and saves its strength and viciousness for later.

With heavy limbs and a splitting headache and a mess in his head, he drags his body down the corridor and opens the door with slow, sluggish movements. Madara will call for him soon and then he'll be able to see properly again. No one will ever know the real price he had to pay for it.

* * *

><p><strong>The result of listening to too much Nirvana. How did that spawn this little side project? Hard to explain. Maybe in later chapters. Well, aynway, I plan for this to have...three chapters, all three quite short. So about the length of this one, or a little longer. We'll see. <strong>

**Argh, it's hard to write like that, but I will try to keep it like that, if you don't tell me that it's too exhausting to read. **

**This was Megaphone. Kills. You. and please, stay tuned for the next chapter :) Maybe you could even leave a review? Who knows...**


	2. Love

**:LOVE:**

The bandages over his eyes itch and he has to suppress the urge to rip it off, let his new eyes see the world, the evil and hallow world he lives in. They burn, his new eyes, sharing the disgust he feels for taking them.  
>The rain beats down on him, don't they say the rain drops are the angels' tears? That must mean the heavens are angry with him, to hurt him like that, they want to make his determination waver, to make his resolution falter. The corners of his lips twist, twitch up in a smile, a cruel smile because he doesn't believe that there is a paradise once one dies anymore and God doesn't exist and the angels and him are just the products of wishful thinking, of hopes that the people wouldn't be responsible for their deeds anymore. But he isn't that stupid and naïve and irresponsible and childish.<p>

Before he knows it, he laughs and laughs and he doesn't even know why and it doesn't matter because it feels _good_. The sixth day without sleep.  
>The wind caresses his face and the rain cools him and becomes softer. He keeps his eyes closed and lets his imagination paint the world around him. It's a habit of his to sit here on the rock and staring down at the place that owes him so much more than an apology, so he knows the view and he pictures it in his head.<br>Rocks form around him, an abyss appears and his feet dangle down to it, teasing it, dry, withering plants sprout from the merciless ground between the stone and the rock, dying just the second they are born and heavy, oh so heavy and tired clouds gather in the sky above his head and pour out their misery, the world enfolds to his feet and a ghostly light falls down to earth. They chase away and replace the darkness behind his eyelids.

Once he is pleased with his creation, he allows his screaming muscles to actually rest and he slouches over, the body having not expected this sudden loss of tension. It feels _nice_.

Itachi loved the rain, he remembers and tries to catch every single tear and he wants to melt into the rain. But no, no, as the rain he can't avenge the person he loves most, the memory he keeps closest to his heart.

What a strange thing, he realizes.

He's never had a problem to admit that he loved his family.

He loves them.  
>He loves Itachi because he was so strong and calm and compassionate and understanding and brave and loving and Itachi was...is his world, the center of his universe.<br>He loves his mother because she was gentle and she was caring and strong as well and could chase away the demons of the night when they tried to devour him.  
>He even loves his father. His father was so strong and determined and even when he never said it, he could tell, could feel that Fugaku loved them. The young avenger loves every single one of them and he would never deny it.<p>

Letting Sakura and Naruto into his heart, admitting he cares for them had been harder, so much harder.  
>Like parasites they had clung to him, like a disease they had infected him and blatantly ignored the walls he built so carefully, going through them as if they didn't exist and cracked the padlock he'd sheltered his heart with. Pink and orange invaded his world.<br>He says he's cut the ties, but he can _feel _them, he can feel the ties struggling to remain and every time he reaches out to rip them out of his heart, he retreats because he's scared and he doesn't understand how they can do that. He can't fathom what this _is_. It's not love, love for them died long ago, he suffocated it, drowned it, stabbed it, burned it, **killed** it. IT'S DEAD.

Itachi is the only thing that matters now. Itachi and the rest of his family. They need to be avenged.  
>Itachi loved the place he lived, not seeing what they did to him and the very purpose of the little show he'd put up was to protect the filth he had falsely referred to with human beings. He wants to understand, yet he can't warp his mind around the concept and he only knows that it can't be like that. Itachi was too naïve, believing he could erase the hatred in their hearts and they had used it, had turned Itachi into their marionette.<br>"Can't you see, Itachi? You lived a lie, and so did I. We've both been tricked, but I was tricked with good intentions. They used you, used me. You were blinded. Your love is lost on them..." he cries out, hoping that maybe Itachi can hear him and that he'll understand.

His little speech reassured L-R-P-S-A-H and delivers a kick to Guilt.

The rain grows even softer, until it's reduced to a mild drizzle and he's not sure what it's supposed to mean. He is confused. Does Itachi approve?

"So you do try to kill yourself?" asks Madara from behind and he doesn't even flinch anymore. "I heard your little speech, Sasuke. You're right. They're evil and they are to blame for all the hurt and misery you and your brother were put through."

Sasuke smiles contently and his mind makes the world below burn for their sins.


	3. Hatred

**:HATRED:**

Once upon a time, there lived two foolish brothers.  
>The older one was intelligent, but he was also too naïve and thus was lured into a trap. The younger one was observant, but he was also too young to understand the world and he was easily fooled and thus was lured into a trap. The two brothers went separate ways one day.<br>The older one traded love for hate, honor for dishonor and lived with the illusion that everything would turn out alright, because there was always at least something good within every human.  
>The younger one was blinded by feelings that his brother had implanted in him and was too distracted to try to doubt. Both believed they were doing it right.<br>And after years of separation, they were reunited, and the younger brother who believed to hate his sibling, slaughtered the older one. Filled with satisfaction over his gruesome deed, he turned to leave, but an old man stopped him. Being the foolish person he was, the young man refused to believe the words this old man spoke and laughed, like he'd done every time he found evidence and a reason to doubt, yet the more he heard, the more he realized. Once the old man finished, the younger brother was tormented by despair and sorrow over the loss of the older brother by his own hands.  
>To redeem, he directed his seemingly endless hate at the people who truly deserved it. But the feeling of despair and guilty wouldn't let go of him and invaded his mind when he was weak. During these times, he came to realize and he'd curse his older brother. "Brother, why were you so blind? Why were you so naïve? You could have prevented this, I'm sure you could have!" he would shout out to the heavens, hoping in vain his words would reach the ears of his sibling. But what difference would it have made?<br>And so the two brothers were separated forever and the foolish older brother died with a smile would become meaningless, while his foolish younger brother was cursed to remain on earth.

He's lost track of time and he can't tell if it's day or night or something in between because it's dark with only the lighting drowning the world in light, but that could be because the sky is hiding cowardly behind the clouds that are having the time of their lives.  
>Yesterday, it had been just rain, but the longer he stayed outside, the more vicious the weather got, as if they represented the world's feelings for him (and, how funny, his own mind, a battle field). The tormented screams and the mournful, haunting howling of the wind and the loud, growling thunder are the sweetest and most wonderful sounds to ever reach his ears and the cold that slowly draws the fire out of him and chills him to the bone is the most refreshing and strongest feeling he's ever felt and he enjoys it and he feels superior because no matter what may happen, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how strong and vicious and desperate and angry the wind may be, he won't move. He won't change his mind now, he will stand strong, because he stands above those things and he is the one who looks down on the pitiful people below. The end of the week and still no sleep, seven days now.<p>

For a second, it is still and its quiet and silence embraces him and it frightens him and he hopes the storm starts to sing its bittersweet melody again and that its shouts drown out the thoughts and that the thunder scares them away. But the moment won't pass for him and suddenly, the screams in the back of his head get louder and he tries to push them away, to keep the flood of memories and emotions back because he doesn't want to feel them and he doesn't want to think like that. Why is it that he loses control over his feelings so easily? he muses and watches as the thoughts slip from his control and run wild and for a moment he thinks it's funny how they always do that and how he can't do anything against it, is he really that weak? It hurts and it brings him shame and it fills him with self-hatred when he finally has to come to terms with this something.

He kind of wishes the little bit of sanity that he stumbles over every now and then while everything around it is a burning mess would make an appearance now.

When there's Love, there's Hate and they walk hand and hand and refuse to leave the other one and no matter how hard he tries he can't succeed in cutting them apart.

He loves Itachi and he hates him. He can't forgive Itachi, can't forgive the things he did.

The Mangekyou Sharingan had stolen his eyesight bit by bit, but he thinks that Itachi was blind even long before that. Itachi never saw the darkness that could fill his being, Itachi never saw the bad things the village did, Itachi never saw it. Itachi was a naïve person. That was the truth and it aches and he realizes that he's no better than his older brother. Itachi had really believed that his plan would succeed, that Madara the old man would never tell him, that he would still love Konoha, that he would be showered with affection and honor and admiration, that the elders would never think about killing him, that he would lead a great life with a golden future ahead once he died. He had believed he would never find out.

The young shinobi didn't know just how much his actions had corrupted his brother's mind, he had underestimated the extend, the power of his emotions. Because he didn't want to. He didn't want to think about what would happen if his plan failed, for him this option never existed, for him it was reality that everything would turn out as planned. It's sad and it hurts and he wants to cry from the eyes of his big brother.

The boy of sixteen years wonders how it would have been if he'd know from the beginning. Maybe he wouldn't be as strong now, but what does that matter? He would have Itachi. Itachi would be at his side, hands covered in blood and eyes filled with love and regret, but he would be there and he would tell him that it's alright, that he isn't angry because he understands why he did it and maybe, maybe, maybe, Sakura and Naruto could live because Itachi would calm him and he wouldn't be corrupted. No no, he can't think about that. Naruto and Sakura are just as evil as anyone else, he needs to eradicate them. It's wishful thinking and it's just a web of twisted "What if?"s and it makes his stomach churn.

That's what he _could_ have had.

There's another reason why he harbors some hate inside of him towards his older brother. He'd never given him the chance to develop a life of his own. He had planned everything, from the beginning to the end and he never ever thought that maybe, he could live a life of his own. For years, his life had been a well thought-out play, orchestrated by a marionette. His thoughts, his feelings, all of them had been part of a plan. The thought that maybe he hasn't truly lived the past years scares him. He understands that everything Itachi did were actions out of love, only for him, with good intentions and he appreciates it, but it also hurts to know. A part of him wishes that even if he couldn't have the 'happy ending' of the horror show, he would have liked it if Itachi had given him a choice.

And still he loves Itachi the most, out of all people who walk on earth, more than mommy and daddy.

It will take a while until he will be able to forgive and Itachi will have to forgive him too because they're both foolish and they're both to blame. He will cleanse Itachi's name as an apology and will taint is own.

His head feels really funny now. His can't even make out the sounds, he believes to feel Madara's presence and that he's talking to him, though he wouldn't listen anyway and he finds that everything sounds dull to him and that the sounds melt into each other and it is as if someone holds his head beneath the water surface into the cold darkness and he _loves_ it. That's where he belongs.

L-R-P-S-A-H and Guilt are at peace (for now) and the fire in his head is no longer burning. The ashes are still there, smoldering mischievously and ready to set everything on fire once again, but they won't until a gust of wind makes them.

His eye lids droop and he doesn't mind, he embraces it. Maybe he won't remember once he wakes up. His aching body relaxes just a little more and he sways and he shivers and he falls asleep and he will open his eyes to the same old hallow shallow world. But he'll be different and he'll show his brother with the eyes how he will change this world.

* * *

><p><strong>Aaaaaand this, my dear readers, is already the end. I know, this chapter was longer than the others and yes, I know that this story in itself was pretty short, but as I said before, this was only a side-project and I'm rather happy to have finished something ^^;<br>By the way, this chapter is the reason I wrote this thing and is was written because of the song "Heart-shaped box" by Nirvana. Now, this could've been a misinterpretation from me, maybe because I still have my troubles with figurative language (or is it speech?), but for me, it fit. Hehe, I suppose you'll have to figure out on your own what that means. **


End file.
